


Impatience and Longing

by flowerofsin



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerofsin/pseuds/flowerofsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning for dubious consent. The Doctor finds himself in a predicament, and Martha is tempted to take advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impatience and Longing

The colony on Aldron 3 was known as much for its cuisine as for its welcoming nature towards tourists from various worlds, or this is what the Doctor told Martha when the two of them had been seated for dinner. When the Time Lord had offered to take Martha somewhere relaxing after their previous hectic adventure, she had readily agreed. They'd even procured nice lodgings since they'd be staying for a time. The restaurant that the Doctor had brought her to seemed rather cozy, but whether that was by design or just chance, she couldn't be sure.

Martha tried to tell herself that romance had little to nothing to do with the Doctor's current actions. But it was nice, wasn't it, sitting across from him as he told her about the world they were currently on as they dined. It was nice having him gaze at her with that eager light in his eyes as he told her about all the places they could visit while here. Part of her wanted to believe at least some of what she saw in that gaze was for her, as deluded as the rational side of her told her this was. The Doctor's affable nature often drew Martha in only to have her hopes dashed by his off hand remarks.

The hand that tilted the flask up to the Doctor's lips froze as a worried expression passed over his face. He lowered the glass, swallowing hard before examining the remaining blue liquid.

Martha frowned as she regarded him. "Are you alright? You look a bit flushed."

"Oh dear," he muttered. The Doctor shifted slightly in his chair. "I knew I tasted that spice on the food, but I thought I'd be alright since I was drinking wine from the blue Arel fruit and not the red one." He raised his eyes to gaze into Martha's intently. "It's seems I got the two confused. My memory's not what it used to be, it seems."

"So what's wrong?" A worried look passed onto Martha's face. "You haven't eaten something toxic, have you?"

"Well there's no problem until the two are metabolized into... let's just say in a short while I won't be myself until it wears off." The Doctor rose briskly from his seat. "I really need to be going right about now."

"But where-?"

"Just for a little lie down. No need to get worried."

Martha made to rise from her chair. "I can come with you."

Alarm flitted across the Doctor's face briefly before he tried to cover it. He motioned at her with a hand to reclaim her seat. "No no, it's fine. Best if you don't come actually. Besides, no need for both of us to miss dinner." The Doctor strode away rather quickly before halting and turning on his heel to head back to her, his expression serious. "And Martha, there's no need to check in on me when you get back to the room. I'll be fine, really, just need to let the metabolite work out of my system, alright?"

Before Martha could utter what was on her mind, the Doctor patted her shoulder before hurrying off. She watched him go as she sighed. Turning back toward her dinner, she eyed it with a downcast expression. So much for sharing a nice meal with just the two of them. She poked at the food on her plate, but her appetite didn't return to her.

 

****************************************

 

Hovering outside of the door to the Doctor's room, Martha shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She remembered his words before he had left so abruptly, but what if something really was wrong? It wouldn't be the first time that the Doctor had minimized a problem so that she wouldn't worry.

Martha pushed open the cracked door slowly, peering inside the room. On the bed lay the Doctor on his back. His shirt was unbuttoned, the fabric splayed across his chest. His sleeping face was turned toward her, an arm hanging off of the bed. The covers spilled over the foot of the bed where they had been haphazardly kicked. The Doctor's suit jacket was draped over a nearby chair, his trainers and socks cast about on the floor.

Martha edged into the room. She got midway before the Doctor shifting made her freeze. He blinked at her before attempting to push up from the bed. After a few tries, he succeeded in propping himself up somewhat.

"Martha?" he said in a sleepy voice. "What are you doing in ��" why is it still so hot?" he finished, attempting unsuccessfully to pull his shirt from his shoulders.

Martha frowned, watching the Doctor struggle briefly with the garment before giving up and flopping back onto the bed, looking more rumpled than he did before. "Doctor, are you alright? You seem a little..."

"Never better, never better," he insisted, gesturing languidly. He turned his head back to her, brows furrowing as he raised a hand to point a wavering finger in her direction. "Didn't I say not to come in my room? You're not behaving." His angry expression suddenly broke in a fit of giggles, his smile wide and silly. "You're a naughty girl, Miss Jones."

Martha approached the bed, watching the Doctor as his fit of laughter subsided. "Sometimes, I suppose I am," she agreed. She berated herself silently for allowing his words to take her mind in a direction that it really shouldn't go, especially given the circumstances. The bed dipped as she sat on the side of it to gaze at him. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

The Doctor tilted his head back to regard her, and Martha felt trapped suddenly by those large dark eyes. "'S alright. I forgive you."

The Doctor's eyes were always intense. Often Martha felt almost like some kind of specimen under the Time Lord's scrutiny. But now those eyes seemed to hold something akin to hunger as the Doctor managed to rise and place arms loosely about her shoulders. He leaned against her heavily, his face nuzzling into the space between neck and shoulder.

"You smell nice," he said simply, making Martha shiver as his lips brushed against her skin. She turned her head as she pulled back slightly, moving to give in to the temptation of seeking out his lips with her own. Instead, she ended up watching the Doctor flop back down onto the sheets, muttering about how he was still wearing too many clothes for how hot it was in the room.

Martha sighed, her eyes following his movements as he shifted against the bed, agitatedly trying to divest himself of his trousers. "I can help, just relax," she said, placing a hand on his chest to still him. The Doctor made a small sound in the back of his throat at the press of her hand against his bare skin. The sound made Martha freeze as she gazed down at him. He looked up at her from under heavy eyelids, his brown eyes seeming almost black, the pupils had dilated so much.

"Yeah, help me. You're always helpful, aren't you, Martha?" the Doctor said, his voice low and rumbling.

"That's me, little miss helpful," Martha answered with a small uncomfortable laugh. The Doctor continued to gaze up at her, perspiration beading on his skin. He made no move to dislodge her hand.

Biting her lip, Martha slid her hand across his sweat-dampened skin, watching the Doctor's head tilt backward and his lips part on another moan. The sound seemed to shoot straight inside of her, making her heart race and her breath quicken. She slid her hand slowly over his torso, seemingly mesmerized by the sounds and movements he made. She stroked over a nipple and there was a hissing intake of breath. She raked nails lightly down his chest and he arched up off of the bed, his face twisting in pleasure as he grasped her upper arm. Whatever the substance was the Doctor had been speaking of, it made his body incredibly sensitive.

Martha grasped the hand that the Doctor had placed on her arm to slide it to cup her breast through her blouse as she gazed down at him. He raised his eyes to her face, his gaze seeming almost unfocused.

"Soft," he said, referring to the flesh beneath his touch.

"Yes, I am," Martha replied, encouraged by his response. She pressed his hand against herself more firmly with her own, using massaging motions. "I'm soft and warm and other nice things."

She bent to place kisses along the line of his jaw before pressing her lips to his. Parting his lips with her own, Martha's tongue slipped inside to sweep the Doctor's mouth, gently at first but soon with a hunger that surprised even herself. The Doctor could only return her efforts haphazardly in his current condition. He placed a hand at her side that slipped slightly.

Pulling back, Martha placed shaking hands on the band of his trousers, unfastening them to slide them down his legs, underwear to follow.

She found him to be half hard beneath his clothing, which she took as encouragement rather than just the effects of the substance in his system. Surrounding his length with her fingers, Martha watched the Doctor shift against the bed as she stroked him with long firm motions. A smile hovered on her lips at the keening noises he made. It had to be her as well, didn't it, at least on some level? It wasn't as though just anyone would do at a moment like this?

Martha surprised herself by hearing those words spill from her lips. The Doctor cracked an eye open to gaze up at her but didn't answer, far too busy moaning and clinging to the fabric of her blouse. His grip fisted the material, tugging it slightly from its place tucked into her pants as he arched in response to the thumb that slid over the crown of his erection.

"All you have to do is ask," Martha said, half joking as she pulled her shirt free the rest of the way. She unbuttoned it haphazardly with one hand while her other was still occupied. She took the Doctor's hand that still held the garment into her own, sliding it across her bared chest.

Watching him writhe and moan under her touch was becoming a bit much for Martha. She rose from the bed to toe off her shoes and hurriedly remove her slacks. She chuckled slightly at the frustrated sound the Doctor made when those hands of hers became occupied elsewhere.

"Don't worry, I'm back," Martha said in a low voice as her hands returned to stroke him briefly before she moved to straddle him, holding his length in place so she could slide onto it.

The Doctor's head tilted back onto the pillow, his mouth open in an 'O' before a guttural sound exited from it. Bracing herself with hands on either side of him, Martha raised her hips upward, letting them fall backwards into his lap as she groaned. She moved languidly for a few moments before she picked up speed, riding the Time Lord in earnest.

Martha gazed down at the Doctor. His eyes were closed and his head was turned to one side, lips parted through which soft moans escaped along with unintelligible mutterings as she shifted on top of him.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Martha asked, panting. She cracked a smile as he moaned something she couldn't quite understand. "I know you do," she insisted, raising a hand to stroke down his chest. "You're everything to me, know that? Everything."

The Doctor bucked under her, stiffening as he came within her. Martha wasn't far behind, arching as she slammed down into his lap, shuddering as orgasm swept over her. Her chest heaving, she gazed down at him, mouth open to speak words that died on her lips as she realized he was fast asleep.

 

****************************************

 

It was with trepidation that Martha watched the Doctor emerge from his room in the morning. He stood in the doorway leaning groggily against it, barefoot and shirt open with his trousers hanging low on his hips.

"How are you feeling?" Martha asked, glad when her voice didn't waver. She managed not to bite her lip out of nervousness.

"As well as to be expected," the Doctor replied, stroking a hand back through his hair that left it in more disarray than it had been. "Nothing to be too concerned about. Bit of a headache. Hole in my memory. All things considered, things could have been worse," he finished, managing a thin smile despite the pounding in his head.

"Well, that's good," Martha replied, relieved. On spotting his frown, she added quickly, "not that you're having side effects, just... that they aren't so bad."

The Doctor shrugged off his companion's apparent nervousness, not realizing that it was related to equal parts guilt and concern. Rubbing his face, he gazed in her direction as a vision danced just beyond the edge of memory. He grasped at it, but it soon slipped away.

Noticing his faraway look, Martha suggested, "Maybe you should get cleaned up. I can order us some breakfast, if you like."

Blinking, the Doctor regarded her absently. "Yeah, that would be a good idea," he remarked before turning to move carefully toward where the bathroom lay, a hand on the wall as he moved to steady himself. Martha watched him disappear behind the bathroom door as it closed, sighing before she sank down onto the nearby couch.

 

End


End file.
